What Is This Feeling?
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Prequel to More Than a Feeling. Hermione and Draco meet again for the first time in five years, and confront new feelings for one another.
1. Chapter 1

I promised a prequel to _More Than a Feeling_, and here it is! I still own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 1

The day was hot as Hermione Granger entered a small cafe in the bustling Diagon Alley. With only twenty minutes for lunch, the brunette planned to get in and out as quickly as possible. There was work to be done, and the Ministry of Magic had few employees better than Hermione.

She stood in line, waiting her turn to place a to-go order, when she heard the tapping of a shoe behind her. Though she tried to ignore the annoying, incessant sound, it didn't cease as the line halted. "You know, you're not the only one in a-" she turned to address the patron behind her. The last person she expected to see was her former classmate, Draco Malfoy.

"Not the only one what, Granger?" the tall, sneering blond inquired. "Not the only one in a hurry? Not the only one who's peeved that Neville Longbottom takes twenty minutes to order a turkey sandwich? Not the only one who'd like to be out of here before he turns 30?"

Hermione glowered and turned away. Ignoring him was the plan, but Draco made it difficult. "Do you ever shut up?" she demanded as he prattled on behind her.

He grinned. "No."

With a roll of her eyes, she turned forward once more. They didn't speak again until it was their turn to order. "Small salad, large coffee please," she requested.

"Put hers on my tab," Draco said as she reached for her wallet. "I'll have my usual. And don't argue with me, Granger. You're getting a free meal whether you like it or not. Don't let me pay this time, and I'll just send takeaway to your office everyday until you give in."

There was a look in her eyes, one of concern, as she asked, "Have you been drinking?"

Draco laughed as he handed over more than enough to cover their lunches. "Not today," he replied. Taking the food, he returned to his table and sat down. Hermione, with pursed lips followed, and stood over him. "What?" he asked as he began to eat.

"I'm really not in the mood, Malfoy," she said impatiently.

"You need to eat," he pointed out. "Far too skinny. Besides, judging by the bags beneath your eyes, you could use a break from the Ministry. Sit, eat, don't think about work. It won't kill you to take some time for yourself. Please, Granger? Keep me company."

Though wary of joining him, Hermione knew that the sooner she sat down and ate, the quicker she could return to work. With a small sigh, she took a seat across from him. After relinquishing her lunch, they ate in silence. Her roaming eyes settled on a bouquet of red roses by his side. "Do you always bring your own floral arrangement to restaurants?" she inquired.

Draco blushed. "They're for my mother," he informed her. "My father would bring her fresh roses once a week, but he's gone now. It seemed right to keep the tradition going."

Hermione was taken aback. This was not the same boy from Hogwarts. It seemed he had grown up, grown more mature, and appeared to put others before himself. "That's really nice of you," she replied. "My dad used to do that too. Every Wednesday, he'd bring home pink tulips for my mum. If I'd been good, he would pull out one for me. I'd keep them forever, long after they died. I remember-" she laughed sadly - "my mum would toss them in the middle night, after I was asleep. I still have one, you know. It was the last one he gave me, and I charmed it so it would never wither."

There was a wistful look in her eye as Hermione lowered her head. Draco knew of her parents' demise. He knew the men who had been sent to kill them. He relished the day she testified against Yaxley and his team, sending them to Azkaban to rot for the rest of their days. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Brown eyes rapidly blinked away tears, and she assured him that she was fine. "Um, I really appreciate this," she told him, putting her leftover salad in her purse. "I should be getting back to work though."

Nodding, he watched her rise, but stopped her before she could go. Removing a single red rose from the bouquet, he offered it to her. "I come here everyday at noon for lunch," he said. "If you feel like it, join me."

Hermione nodded as she accepted the flower. "It was good to see you, Malfoy," she replied. Without looking back, she returned to the Ministry of Magic. She admired the flower Draco had given her, taking in the scent and twirling it between her fingers.

"Where have you been?" was the first question she received upon entering her office.

"Lunch," she replied. After setting down her coffee and purse, she pushed her fiance's feet from her desk. "What are you doing in here?"

Ron Weasley vacated her chair and kissed her. "I know you eat healthy, but flowers seem like a stretch," he joked. "Or do you have another man on the side? Should I be jealous?"

She knew he was teasing her, but she also knew that Ron had a fierce, uncontrollable temper. There was a decades-long animosity between the Malfoy and Weasley families, and Hermione had been quick to take the Weasleys' side. The Malfoys were a cruel, intolerant family who favored the mass genocide of the muggle born.

There was no forgiving Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's behavior, but Draco seemed different. The fear in his eyes had been palpable from their sixth year until his trial ended. When they met at Malfoy Manor, her first thought was that he had looked close to death. His skin was paler than usual and dark circles framed his eyes. He was no longer the haughty boy who believed himself to be better than her. He was a scared boy who looked like he would give anything to escape.

If Hermione were being honest with herself, she could admit that lunch with Draco wasn't half as bad as it should have been. There was no way she would tell Ron that, though. "Oh, it's from someone on the street," she said with a shrug, placing it on the desk. "He just handed it to me. No idea who he was."

Ron seemed to accept her answer. "So, um, Mum wants to know if we're coming to dinner tonight," he told her. "Well, more specifically, if _you're_ coming. She's concerned that you work too much."

"There's a lot of work to do," she mumbled as she finished her coffee. "Ron, I'm really sorry, but if you want me there, I need to get this proposal done today."

She watched him leave, appreciative that he understood how important her work was to her. Finally alone, she could work in peace.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was too late for dinner at the Burrow by the time Hermione left work, and so she returned to the cafe to pick up something she could eat at home. At a table by the door, she spotted Draco. "Do you live here?" she wondered, approaching the table. "Should I feel bad for you?"

Draco looked up from his newspaper. "Yes, Granger, you should," he replied seriously. Turning the paper for her to see, he continued. "We opened a new wing, a new pediatric wing, at the hospital. This is the photo they use. I look like a mutant."

Hermione moved closer for a better look. It was a blurry picture, but it did him no favors. "I wouldn't say mutant," she murmured. "Grotesque, absolutely, but not mutant."

Chuckling, he set the paper aside. "Are you done for the day?" he asked. "Please don't tell me this is just a break."

Shaking her head, she let out a relieved breath. "I'm just on my way home," she told him. "Of course, the only things in my refrigerator at the moment are a box of baking soda and some three year old batteries. Picking up dinner seemed wise."

"Get something more substantial than a small salad that you don't intend to finish," he advised.

Without a word, she approached the counter to order a simple pasta dish and a coffee. Hermione returned to his table and sat down. "Ron's at the Burrow," she told him, handing him a fork. "If I don't eat with you, I'll eat over my work. The Ministry tends to reject any proposal covered in marinara sauce. Besides, I don't like men who are skinnier than me. Eat, or risk giving me a complex."

Draco picked up the fork and speared a noodle. "I didn't take you for one of those girls who cares about looks," he commented.

Shrugging, she replied, "I'm not. I'm just trying to make you feel guilty so you'll eat with me."

He couldn't help but laugh. Hermione Granger had a sense of humor. "Do you really think that would work?" he asked, sticking a forkful of rigatoni in his mouth.

"Yes, I do, and I'm never wrong," she replied. "There is one thing I'm curious about though. Why are you being so nice to me?"

Setting down his fork, Draco looked away. "Because I want to," he mumbled. When she didn't press for further details, he looked at her. All Hermione offered was a smile as she continued to eat. "Why are you being nice to me?"

Hermione shrugged. "Because I don't believe you were ever the bad person you wanted people to think you were," she said. "Sure, you were a jerk and a bully. And yes, you were a bit annoying this afternoon with the foot tapping and the incessant need to hear your own voice. My mother always told me to try to see the good in others, and that's what I want to do with you."

"Funny, my mother taught me to hate anyone who wasn't a pureblood," he remarked. "She also taught me not to tap my feet when I grow impatient either. We can both see how many of her lessons truly stuck."

"I guess not all lessons are meant to be followed so stringently," she agreed. "Like my mother's rule about never eating in bed. I take most of my meals in bed. That's where the good telly is."

Draco laughed, despite a mouthful of food. "You are nothing like I imagined you'd be," he confessed.

"Why? Because I've broken a few rules?" she asked. "You'll be interested to know that I broke about 50 when we were in school. Who do you think came up with the idea for Dumbledore's Army? It certainly wasn't him."

A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth as he admitted that he already knew that. "I've never believed Potter smart enough to do something like that," he reasoned. "I certainly never thought it was Weasley's scheme."

Hermione scowled. They'd done so well until now. "Could we not talk about Harry and Ron and the Weasleys?" she requested. "Things will be said, I know they will. I'm having too nice a time to walk away angry."

He agreed to a moratorium on talk of Potter and Weasley, but knew it would be difficult and couldn't last. They ate in silence until the last noodle had been consumed. After ordering another coffee to go, the pair left the cafe. "Where are you headed now?" he asked.

With a wistful sigh, she told him it was time to go home. "Ron's going to be mad," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I'll walk in the door and he'll ask 'why didn't you show up after dinner?' It doesn't matter that I'm out the door and at my desk before seven in the morning, or that I work until eight most nights. It also hasn't occurred to him that his family is big and loud, and sometimes I just need a little peace and quiet."

"So then, why stay?" he asked as they began to walk aimlessly.

Hermione stared at the night sky, attempting and failing to count the stars. "Because they're the only family I have," she replied. "And in a few months, I'll be a part of that family."

"Ah, so the rumors are true," Draco exclaimed as he kicked a pebble. "You're going to be Hermione Weasley. Forgive me, but it doesn't really have the same ring as Granger."

Scoffing, she bumped her shoulder against his arm. "Yes, because Astoria Malfoy sounds wonderful," she retorted. "How true are those rumors?"

A year earlier, their parents had finalized his marriage contract, forcing the union between Astoria Greengrass and himself. They hardly spoke before the wedding, and nothing had changed by their first anniversary. They slept in separate rooms in separate wings of Malfoy Manor, and Draco spent as much time away from home as possible, while Astoria helped herself to her new family's vaults.

"Every single one of them," he replied. "Especially if the rumors include that we hate each other. That one is most definitely true."

"Then why stay?" she asked.

He glanced down at her and smirked. "Because it's an arranged marriage, and an arranged marriage needs to produce an heir," he explained. "That's the only way we can get out. Merlin, I can't imagine having a child with that woman. No one should have to call her their mother."

Hermione smiled as she sat down on a nearby bench. "I'm sure she's not that bad," she remarked. "Although I can't imagine being forced to marry someone I don't love. It seems like a sad life. Then to force a child to grow up in that environment, that just seems sick."

Sitting down, he gestured to himself. "And this is the byproduct of arranged marriage," he concluded with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"You don't seem so bad now," she mused, nudging his shoulder.

"Right, I'm like a fine wine," he teased. "I just get better with age."

Hermione smirked. "And so much more humble," she muttered. "I should get home. Will I see you tomorrow?"

Draco nodded. "Have a good night, Granger."


	3. Chapter 3

This morning, I woke up thinking it was Sunday, then wondered what Adele was doing in my bedroom. The three day weekend really can't come fast enough.

* * *

Chapter 3

"You're up early," Ron commented as he laid in bed.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she readied herself for another long day of work. "There are things to do," she replied. The argument about time was part of their morning routine. Ron believed she worked too much and could do with a bit of a lie in once in awhile. Hermione argued that the already too much work would just pile up if she took a break. "And you? Do you plan to get out of bed today?"

As she passed him, Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the bed. "No, and neither should you," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers. Hermione giggled, despite complaints that he would wrinkle her clothes. "What do you say? Just stay for an hour?"

Groaning, she managed to get back to her feet. "Sorry, love. I really have to go," she said. "I promise to come home early tonight though."

Ron let her go. "You say that every night," he pointed out. "But okay, fine. I'll believe you this time."

She kissed him quickly before leaving the bedroom to floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Upon entering the cafe, Hermione was disappointed to find that Draco wasn't there. At the counter, she was handed her usual order - coffee with milk and two sugars - and a single red rose. With a smile on her lips, she walked to the Ministry to begin her very long day.

Harry waited in her office, and eyebrows rose at the sight of the flower she carried. "We both know that's not from Ron," he remarked as she settled in for a morning of paperwork.

"We both know that's correct," she quipped. "I need some advice, but you can't ask any questions."

With a heavy sigh, Harry agreed. "I have a feeling I'm not going to like this," he commented.

"I've been...talking to someone," she started. "That's it, just talking. We have a nice time together, and I enjoy talking to this person. I can't help but feel a bit guilty though."

"Who is it?" Harry wondered. Hermione scowled, reminding him that she would answer no questions. "Will you at least tell me why you feel guilty? Because it's okay to have a friend outside of our little group. It's impossible for that not to happen."

Hermione stared at the two roses that now sat in a glass of water on her desk. She knew why she felt guilty, but Harry couldn't know. "It's a guy," she admitted, worried that she would need to defend herself and her actions. "Like I said - we're just talking. I just...I worry that Ron will get jealous. We both know he has a proclivity for jumping to conclusions, and I don't want to ruin everything."

Harry nodded knowingly. He still received looks of warning from his best friend whenever he and Hermione were left alone. "I'm not gonna say anything to Ron," he promised, "but you probably should. If you're feeling guilty, maybe you shouldn't be talking to other men."

Though she knew that her friend was right, Hermione didn't want to give up the budding friendship she felt was growing between Draco and herself. If she couldn't let it go, she knew it would have to remain a secret. Secrets, though, had a way of ruining things, sometimes permanently. Hermione put that out of her mind as she agreed with Harry's advice.

Left alone as Harry returned to work, Hermione had ample time to think. She loved Ron. Ron was family. The Weasleys were family. It was a bond that could never be broken, one she needed to remain intact. Without them, she was alone, and she wasn't ready for that. It wouldn't be a great sacrifice to lose Draco Malfoy. After all, two brief conversations didn't make them friends. It didn't make them anything, merely two people who knew each other, and were polite enough to say hello.

That was what Hermione told herself. She could ignore the laughs they shared, the pleasant moments, the desire to repeat the experience. When noon rolled around, Hermione left the Ministry for the cafe, wondering if she would see Draco. Entering, she got her wish. Rising, he smiled at her. "Did you get your coffee this morning?" he asked. Grinning, Hermione nodded. "Oh, good. I was afraid you might not come in this morning, or they'd just toss it."

"No, it was here," she replied, suddenly nervous. "I thought the rose was a nice touch. Thank you, Malfoy. I'm not human until I have my third cup."

"Glad to help," he said as she ordered lunch and joined him at his table. "What number is this?"

Hermione thought about his question for a moment. "Six," she replied. "And I'll be asleep the second my head touches the pillow tonight. Caffeine hasn't had an effect on me since I was a teenager. Ron thinks it's disgusting, both the taste and my dependence on it."

Draco shrugged. "It could be worse," he decided. "You could be drunk all day. Sure, the first couple of times aren't bad, but when it becomes an everyday habit it wears thin. Um, Astoria will only speak to me after she's had a few. The elves aren't able to keep wine in the house very long."

"When was the last time you were happy?" Hermione asked. "I mean really, truly, can't stop smiling happy."

It took him a long time to conjure a memory of happiness. It should have been his wedding day, but he hated his bride. Perhaps it was the day the war ended, but there were more trials and tribulations that followed. It was a sad thought that popped into his mind when he answered. "The day I got my first real broomstick," he said. "I loved that thing. I flew around the manor grounds for hours, well past dark. It was the most freeing feeling I've ever had, and I was twelve."

Sadness filled her brown eyes, though she was sure she had no memory of real happiness from her teen or adult years. He seemed ready to ask the same question of her, but she cut him off. "Okay, new plan," she said. "We both find something that makes us happy. It has to be real, true happiness though. No books, no broomsticks. Even if it only lasts a second, we'll know that we finally found it."

"What if this is it?" he wondered. "Sitting here, talking to someone who doesn't hate me. Because I went home last night and felt good. It almost felt like having a friend."

Once more, Harry's advice replayed in her mind. And once more, Hermione decided to ignore it. If Draco wanted a friend, she would be one.


	4. Chapter 4

It is full-on summer here, and I'm the weirdo walking around town with a sweater on. If I'm cold in 90 degree heat, I fear old age.

* * *

Chapter 4

Every day, the pair met at noon. After a week of daily roses and lunch dates, Draco suggested they depart from the routine. "Have drinks with me tonight," he requested on Friday over lunch.

"Planning to liquor me up so you can take advantage of me?" Hermione joked. "You're married, remember?"

"And you're engaged," he pointed out. "And we're friends. Friends can have a drink together. Might loosen you up a bit, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron would be working late, and she had no other plans. As much as she wanted to join Draco, it was too easy to toy with him a bit. "Do you really think insulting me is the right way to get me to agree?" she asked.

"It wasn't an insult. It was more of a commentary meant to open your eyes," he responded. "Personally, I like uptight Hermione Granger. I'm just curious to find out what let down her hair, relaxed Hermione Granger might look like. If a few drinks doesn't do that, I'm prepared to set you loose in a bookstore. Maybe I should just do that."

She laughed as she finished her sandwich. "I'm much more tense in a bookshop," she shared. "It's the desire to have them all, while knowing that I can't afford them. Probably best to just have a drink with you instead."

Draco grinned, proud that he had managed to talk her into joining him. When they finished lunch, he watched her leave before reluctantly returning home to Malfoy Manor. He hated the place. It was full of haunting memories and regrettable decisions. People, innocent people, had been tortured and killed in his family's home while his parents did nothing to stop it.

Only one room offered the smallest bit of salvation, and that was his private quarters. Except he wasn't alone when he entered them. His wife lounged on the king-sized bed, her blue eyes glassy from too much wine. "You realize you're in the wrong room," he commented, removing his blazer.

Astoria sat up and smiled. "I wanted to see you," she said, slightly slurring her words. Draco rolled his eyes as she moved towards him. As soon as her arms draped over his shoulders, he pushed her away. "Aww, don't be that way. I'm your wife."

"Because our parents arranged it," he retorted, escorting her back to the bed lest she fall. "We're strangers, and I have no interest in getting to know you better. I'd much prefer a wife who doesn't rely on alcohol to be around me. I think you should leave."

She frowned, looking up at him. "But we're supposed to make a baby," she insisted.

"And you're supposed to be sober," he shot back. Feelings hurt, Astoria left. Finally alone, Draco removed his clothes and entered the bathroom. With a flick of his wand, the tub filled with hot, steaming water. He eased himself in with a content sigh. There were days he hated his life, but the recent addition of Hermione Granger seemed to perk him up. She made him smile and laugh, and Draco finally understood what it might mean to be happy.

He met Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron at half past seven. She was seated at the bar with a glass of red wine, and she grinned when he approached. "Firewhiskey please," he ordered, then turned his attention to the brunette by his side. "Let's sit someplace a bit more comfortable."

They moved to a booth near the back of the pub, sitting side by side to hear one another over the din. "I really needed this," Hermione admitted. "Between work and wedding planning and Ron and his family, I just really needed a break."

For a reason Draco couldn't quite understand, the last thing he wanted to hear about was her wedding to Ron Weasley. Instead, he found himself attempting to show some interest. "When is the big day?" he inquired.

"September," she replied. "Honestly, I don't think I've planned one detail. Ginny and Molly are far better suited for this sort of thing. I think all I have to do is show up."

He noticed the frown on her face. "You don't seem happy about that," he commented as he slowly sipped his drink. A shrug was her only answer. "I would never take you for someone who doesn't want to be hands on in the planning of her own wedding. Besides, you have an opinion about everything, and I don't mean that in a negative way. I'm just confused is all."

Her finger traced the rim of her almost empty glass. "It doesn't seem like me, does it," she mused. "I don't know. I've never really cared about my wedding. Other girls planned their dream days and played bride, and I read and studied. The dress, the vows, the flowers, the reception - I never really cared what they would be like. Just give me the license to sign and be done with it."

Draco chuckled as he signalled for another round. "That's the right attitude," he muttered.

"Are you saying you didn't feel that way when you got married?" she inquired disbelievingly.

"It was my only chance to get married, and even though I didn't like the bride, I thought I should make the best of the day," he replied. "At the rate things are going between us, Astoria and I will never have a child, which means we'll never be able to divorce. At least I can say I had a nice wedding."

They sat in silence as they consumed their drinks. Silence had never been a friend of Hermione's though, and it gave her too much of a chance to ruminate on her future. She thought of the family she believed she wanted. Suddenly, it seemed like a miserable existence. Molly Weasley was oftentimes overbearing, Arthur was loving but clueless, and aside from George and Ginny, she had no relationship with the other Weasley children.

Then there was Ron. She thought of the first boy she ever had a crush on, the boy who became her fiance. More often than not they fought, and Hermione would begin to wonder why she stayed. It was because, despite the arguments and head-butting, Ron loved her unconditionally. She wished she could remember the last time she felt the same way.

"Where did you go?" Draco asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She flashed him a guilty smile. "Got lost in my own head," she murmured. All thoughts of Ron, the Weasleys, and her wedding disappeared as she looked into gray, sparkling eyes. Her gaze fell to his lips - lips that had spoken kind words and funny words and intelligent words. But she didn't want to hear words. Instead, she wondered what they felt like, what it would be like to kiss Draco Malfoy.

Rather than wonder, she decided to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hermione awoke to a harsh sun and a sore body. Opening her eyes, she saw her clothes strewn about the floor beside the bed. A warm, heavy, but not unpleasant weight was draped across her waist. Slowly, she rolled over to face her still sleeping companion. She hadn't meant to sleep with him. It was one kiss that she wanted. But one hadn't been enough, and when Draco suggested they book a room, Hermione was all too eager to agree.

"Morning," Draco murmured, his eyes still closed against the sun. "Feeling okay?"

"A bit achy," she admitted. "You?"

He groaned as he held her closer. "Tired," he replied with a yawn, "but the good kind of tired. What time is it?"

Hermione shrugged as she tried to escape his grasp. "I don't know, but we should get home," she said, feeling lightheaded as she sat up. "Merlin, Ron's going to be worried. I can't believe we stayed out all night."

He watched in silence as she dressed and readied to return home. "Do you regret it?" he wondered.

She stopped, her shoe falling to the floor, and turned to face him. "No, I don't," she replied. "And I feel guilty for not regretting it. I'm engaged, you're married, and we slept together. I've never done this with anyone. It was supposed to be Ron, not a married man who teased and insulted me for seven years."

Draco threw back the blankets, and Hermione instinctively turned away. "That sounds like regret to me," he remarked, pulling on his pants.

At the sound of his zipper, she faced him once again. "It's not," she insisted, standing before him. "I overthink everything and make myself crazy, and that's what I'm doing now. But I have no regrets about kissing you or sleeping with you or waking up with your arms around me this morning. I have questions. Many, many questions."

"Then let me buy you breakfast and see how many of them I can answer," he suggested, leaning down to kiss her.

"I really only have one for you," she murmured. "I'd prefer you think about it before answering."

Draco frowned as she pulled away. "Are you going to tell me what it is?" he inquired.

Her hand closed around the doorknob. "Where do we go from here?" she asked as she stepped out of the room.

He felt the urge to chase after her, take her in her arms, and not allow her to leave the bed they had shared. There were more important things to consider though than his own wants and needs. Try as she might to deny her guilt over their night together, Draco hadn't believed it. Hermione Granger was loyal to a fault, and would remain by her fiance's side. Last night was a mistake to be made only once and never repeated.

It was days before they saw one another again. It was purely accidental that they bumped into one another as one entered and one exited Flourish and Blott's. Hermione's cheeks took on a crimson hue as she attempted to move past him. They murmured apologies for the run-in, but Draco had more to say than "I'm sorry."

Holding her wrist discreetly, he kept her from entering the shop. "Are you here alone?" he asked. Looking anywhere but his eyes, she nodded. "Can we talk?"

With a heavy sigh, she shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea," she replied.

"But you asked me a question, and I want to answer it," he insisted.

She noticed the number of people who stared at them, and beckoned him to follow her inside. There was a small, muggle studies section on the second floor of the shop that was almost always empty. "Okay, fine. What is it you have to say?" she demanded when they were alone.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke. "You asked me where we go from here," he said. "I don't want to lose you. I...I can't lose you. What happened that night doesn't have to happen again, and I'll be fine with that if it means keeping your friendship."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip as she finally looked him in the eye. "I don't want to lose you either," she confessed. "We can't be selfish though. We both have other people in our lives that deserve to be considered."

"Does Weasley know?" he wondered.

"No, and I hope he never finds out," she replied. "Not that I feel guilty that it happened, it's just not fair to him. All that talk about remaining a virgin until marriage went right out after a few drinks."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize," he murmured.

Standing side by side, their backs against the shelves, Hermione reached for his hand. "It's not your fault," she said. "I don't know why it is, but I don't think clearly around you. The problem is I can't decide if that's good or bad."

His own feelings were not far off. The hours spent in her company were pure enjoyment. She made him feel alive, and that was something no one else in his life could do. Draco vowed that he wouldn't lose Hermione Granger when he needed her so much. "So, what do we do?" he wondered. "Do we walk away from each other for good, or try to stay friends?"

"I'm not ready to walk away," she told him, clutching his hand tighter. "We'll just have to figure something out."

Draco stared at their linked hands. "I, uh, I've decided to rent that room for awhile," he informed her. "Just as a place to get away from my parents and wife and the constant nagging of my mother to give her a grandchild. I want you to feel free to use it whenever you need some alone time too."

"And just how much alone time would I have if you're there?" she inquired.

Turning to face her, he cupped her cheek. "Tell me to go," he murmured. "I'll walk away right now if you want me to."

Hermione couldn't recall a single thought that passed through her mind as she kissed him. Being with Draco, feeling his touch, inhaling his scent was what she wanted. She didn't want him to walk away, and she would certainly never ask that of him. "I've missed you," she whispered. "And this."

Letting go of her hand, Draco wound his arms around her waist. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

She looked into gray eyes that burned through her. "I trust you," she replied before he Apparated them away.


	6. Chapter 6

Today, I emailed my boss to tell her that the printer isn't printering. Anyway, enjoy the chapter while I attempt to remain conscious.

* * *

Chapter 6

"Is something going on with Hermione?" Ron asked as he ate lunch with his sister and Harry.

The Potters exchanged a quick look before Ginny assured him that their friend was fine. "What makes you think there's something wrong?" she wondered.

Sighing, Ron pushed aside his half-eaten meal. "I don't know," he said. "She just seems off. Did I tell you she's been sleeping in her office instead of coming home? Two nights in the last week, she spent them in her office. That doesn't seem off to you two?"

Ginny shrugged as she tossed back her long, red hair. "It's Hermione," she replied. "Since when does overworking sound off when it comes to her?"

"Have you mentioned this to her?" Harry interjected. He knew more than his wife and best friend knew, and he suddenly wished he hadn't. Wild accusations and crazy theories sprang mind, and he didn't want to believe Hermione was capable of them. Her mystery man was a friend and nothing more, and until he had proof, Harry chose to believe that she really was spending her nights working.

Ron shook his head as he pulled his plate closer. "There's no talking to her about work," he muttered, taking a large bite of his sandwich. "I understand that it's important to her, but it shouldn't be more important than us. I'm tired of coming second to her career."

"Does she know she's doing that?" Ginny asked. "We all know that once Hermione sets her focus on something, it's hard to distract her. Maybe if she knew you were feeling this way, she'd make some changes."

Ron shrugged, not entirely convinced that Hermione's ways could be changed by one conversation. It was the only course of action he had, though. There then came the worry that her stubborn and oftentimes temperamental side would come out. Two people with similar personalities made for explosive arguments, and the couple had had their fair share of those during their relationship. "Wish me luck," he muttered as he paid for lunch and trio departed.

Harry returned to work while Ron went home to the flat he and Hermione shared, and Ginny headed off for Quidditch practice. He took the lift to Hermione's floor, intent on getting some answers. Her desk was a mess of papers and scrolls and files, but Harry was sure it was a systematic mess.

"Thought you should know that Ron thinks something is up," he warned her as he sat down. "I take it he doesn't know about this guy you've been palling around with."

Hermione set down her quill as she closed the file in front of her. "No, he doesn't," she said calmly. "You said it yourself - I'm allowed to friends outside of this little trio. This is just someone I meet for lunch from time to time. We're not planning slumber parties, or what color tie he should wear to my wedding. It's a casual friendship, and not something that's meant to cause alarm."

"So, these late nights - you've really been spending them in the office?" Harry asked. "Because you know Ron worries about that too."

"He knows my work is important to me," she replied impatiently. "I'm supposed to be fine with him working long hours, or being gone on a mission for days at a time, but heaven forbid I do my own job? It doesn't work that way, Harry."

Harry held up his hands to let her know he didn't want to argue. "I just thought, as your friend, I should let you know what's coming," he stated. "Maybe keep in mind that Ron loves you, and you love him, and cut him a little slack. He's worried, that's all."

Ron had reason to worry. Her free time had recently been spent with Draco. An illicit affair had begun, one Hermione had no desire to end. She found her time spent with him to be far more enjoyable than time spent with her fiance. They didn't fight, they didn't bicker, harsh words were never exchanged. His kisses were sweet and frequent. While he was concerned for her well-being, he didn't push her to cut back at work. But she loved Ron, and so she stayed with him. She would marry him in September as planned, and she would have to end her relationship with Draco. Putting a time limit on it made her feel less guilty, or so Hermione told herself.

"I wish I could figure out some way to make him worry less," Hermione finally replied. "I just don't know how to make him understand that I'm okay."

"Talk to him," Harry advised. "I'm sure you'll figure out a way to make him see that."

Hermione nodded and bade him goodbye as he left. The next hour was spent attempting to concentrate on work. When ten minutes were used reading one paragraph, she gave up and went home. Ron was in their bedroom, packing, when she arrived. "Going somewhere?" she asked nervously.

"Bulgaria," he told her. "A rogue Death Eater may have been spotted, so Harry and I are leaving soon. What are you doing home?"

Without a word, she hugged him. "Be careful," she implored, just as she had every time he left on a mission. "Come home to me."

His bag forgotten, Ron wrapped his arms around her. "I will," he whispered, kissing her hair. "I'll always come back to you. Just promise me you won't spend this entire time working. Take a break once in awhile."

Hermione promised she would, and Ron picked up his bag to leave. "I love you, Ron," she said when they reached the front door.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing her.

She watched him leave, not for the first time, and wondered how long his job would keep him away this time. Their flat felt lonely without him, and Hermione felt uneasy being there on her own. Staring at the fireplace, she considered calling Draco, but quickly reconsidered. She couldn't bring the other man into the flat she shared with the man she would soon marry.

Against her better judgement, Hermione called and asked Draco to meet her in their usual room. After packing a change of clothes in her purse, she Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and Room Number 19. Minutes later, Draco arrived, concerned that she wanted to meet in the middle of the day. The door had only just closed behind him when Hermione wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

"Ron's gone on business," she said, finally pulling back, "and I don't want to be alone."


	7. Chapter 7

We had a blackout yesterday. It last 2 hours, but I had Hurricane Sandy flashbacks within minutes. I went to visit my old job because they had air conditioning. My boss offered me a job, so that was cool. It's good to have back up.

* * *

Chapter 7

"I could get used to this," Draco murmured as he held her in his arms that night.

Hermione sighed, resting her chin on his chest. "I have gotten used to this," she replied. "You know, you've frequently asked if I have any regrets, but I've often wondered if you have any. You do have a wife, after all."

He scoffed as he ran his fingers through her wild, untameable curls. "A wife I don't love," he reminded her. "And no, I don't have any regrets about us. I like being with you, and if you asked me to stay with you in this bed forever, I'd do it."

Hermione smiled. Her mind could focus only on the blond lying beside her. All thoughts of Ron and a wedding and the life she should want were forgotten when Draco held her, kissed her, made love to her. There were many times she considered asking him to stay before reality seeped into her world once again.

"What if we did?" she wondered. "What if we really just stayed here?"

"What about Weasley?" Draco asked. "Or Potter, for that matter? I take it they're still not privy to our friendship."

Hermione shook her head as she turned over and sat up. Hugging her knees to her chest, she wondered how much longer she could keep her secret, or Draco, for that matter. Feelings, strong feelings, had begun to develop, and she wasn't sure it would do to have them once she was married. She couldn't remain faithful to Ron in marriage if she kept Draco on the side. Though she hadn't managed to remain faithful during her engagement either, her mind was made up that this would end before the wedding.

"I don't want to think about them," she decided, lying down. "They don't exist in this room. In fact, no one else in the world exists in this room."

Draco chuckled as he held her close. "I think I've rubbed off on you a bit too much, Granger," he remarked. "You're almost as selfish as I am."

"I'm not being selfish. I'm choosing to avoid facing reality. There's a difference," she replied.

Draco stared at the ceiling. If he had it his way, he would choose Hermione. Their affair wouldn't have to remain a secret. It wasn't love, he knew that, but infatuation often felt like love. They hadn't discussed the future, allowing their relationship to exist only in the here and now, but it was a conversation they needed to have. Instinctively, his hold on her tightened.

"Is this over when you say 'I do'?" he asked.

Sighing, she moved out of his grasp. "I think so," she replied. "I don't know how to do this when I'm married."

"The same way you did it engaged," came Draco's retort.

Tossing back the blankets, Hermione bit her tongue to keep from saying something she might regret. Silently, she gathered her clothes and redressed. He said nothing to keep her from leaving, and so she walked out the door and returned home.

Once more, she was alone in her flat, angry and hurt by Draco's words. Minutes later, when the floo roared to life, she wondered if Draco had followed her. Instead, out stepped Ginny Weasley with a bottle of wine in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other. "Harry's gone too," the redhead said sadly. "I thought we could wallow together."

Hermione grinned as she summoned two spoons and a corkscrew. "Come on in, friend," she replied. The women spent the night talking about everything but their partners as they ate and drank. They fell asleep on the sofa, the wine warming and the ice cream melting. It was in the early morning hours that Hermione awoke to a stiff neck and sore back. Ginny remained asleep as she left the couch to let in an owl that perched on the windowsill. She didn't recognize the bird, but had a feeling it belonged to Draco. With shaky fingers, she accepted the note, and read his apology.

Ginny awoke with a groan just as she finished reading. "Who's that from?" she wondered, working out the kinks in her back.

"Work," Hermione replied, balling up the letter. "Sorry, I have to go in today. We'll do dinner tonight." Without awaiting a reply, Hermione hurriedly dressed and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron to meet Draco. He was seated at their usual booth with two cups of coffee. When he saw her, he offered a hesitant smile. "Pandering to my vices?" she inquired, sipping the steaming beverage.

"Whatever works, right?" he asked. "Um, I wanted to apologize in person for what I said last night. It was out of line, and I didn't mean to upset you. I just...I don't want this to end, and I'm afraid of losing you."

"And you thought snide comments about cheating on my fiance would do the trick?" she wondered. "You knew this couldn't last forever."

As more patrons entered, Draco feared that their secret would be found out. He suggested staggering their return to their usual room, with Hermione leaving first. Giving her a five minute head start, he left the pub for the back entrance. Entering their room, he stood with his back against the door while Hermione sat at the foot of the bed. "Are we ending this now?" he asked, desperate to break the silence and tension that permeated the room.

Sighing, she looked at him briefly, noting the sadness in his eyes, before looking away once more. "I told you I didn't feel guilty being with you, but what you said last night did make me feel that way," she said. "I should feel bad. Ron's going to be devastated if he ever finds out. But I'm not ready to give you up either."

"What about when you're married?" he asked. "Once the ring is on your finger, you'll be able to give me up then?"

Shaking her head, she stood and walked to him. Her hands rested on his chest, one right over his rapidly beating heart. "I don't want to," she confessed. "Don't purebloods do this kind of thing? They get married, but keep a mistress on the side. Why can't I do that too?"

"You want me to be your mistress?" he asked, failing to hide his mirth.

"Or whatever the male equivalent is," she amended. "All I know is I want you in my life, whether or not I'm married."


	8. Chapter 8

This weekend, my cousin and I got into an argument over Hercules. She used Disney ("They live happily ever after, damn it!") as her source, and I used Greek mythology. I think I won this round.

* * *

Chapter 8

The affair continued on for two more months. After a week long illness, Hermione feared the worst, and her fears were quickly confirmed. She was pregnant, and it was Draco Malfoy's baby. Panic set in as she stared at the pregnancy test in hand. It was over. She couldn't marry Ron and allow him to think that the baby was his own. She couldn't stay with a married man who was already tied down to one woman he didn't love.

Hermione knew what she needed to do, but she didn't like it.

Draco entered his rented room to find Hermione already there. Seated at the foot of the bed, she seemed not to notice him until he spoke. She looked up, eyes dry and mouth set in a straight line. "I only came by to tell you that this is over," she said, fighting to keep her voice strong and firm. "I can't do this anymore."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said," she interrupted. "I'm getting married next week though, and it isn't fair to Ron, so I'm ending this. I'm sorry, Draco, but I have to."

He grabbed her arm as she attempted to pass him. "Tell me you'd rather be with him," he demanded. "Tell me Weasley means more to you than I do. Tell me that walking out that door and never coming back is what you really want."

Hermione stared at him with cold, unyielding eyes. "I don't love you, Draco," she said. "I love Ron."

Draco let her go, and watched as she walked out of his life. There was no rhyme or reason to her sudden change of heart, and he began to wonder if perhaps Ron had found out about the affair. That they still intended to wed in a week suggested that he knew nothing. With no answers, Draco returned home.

Hermione returned to an empty flat. Ron was working, which made for an easier time packing. With her possessions stuffed in trunks, Hermione stared at her engagement ring as she removed it. She placed the ring beside a note, ending their engagement, and walked out the door for the final time. Returning to the Leaky Cauldron, she passed through into the muggle world to begin anew.

000000000

Weeks passed, and all Draco could think of was Hermione. He threw himself into work at his father's company, spending long days in the office and crawling into bed late at night. He drank more, hoping the burning liquid would erase his lover from his mind. No one had heard from her. There was no wedding announcement in the _Daily Prophet_, nor photos of the happy couple as they honeymooned. Hermione Granger seemed to have disappeared, and that was alright with him. It was easier to nurse a broken heart when the object of his desire was no longer in the spotlight.

"Still sulking?" Astoria asked, entering his suite.

Draco wasn't sure if he was so drunk that his wife appeared sober, or if she had actually passed on imbibing that evening. Either way, he had no interest in talking to her. "Go away," he muttered as he refilled his glass.

But Astoria Greengrass had never been one to follow orders. "Have you heard the latest gossip?" she inquired, taking a seat on the sofa. "Apparently, Boy Wonder is without a brain." He stared blankly, wondering what she was talking about. "Granger's gone. Completely disappeared. No one knows where she is, not even the Ministry."

"And Weasley?" he wondered.

"The bumbling sidekick is missing too," she replied. "No one's seen him in weeks. Maybe they were kidnapped on their honeymoon and are now being held captive by some native tribe. She's probably teaching them to read while Weasley makes a fool of himself."

Draco chuckled. "He has put on weight over the years. I'm sure he could feed a small village," he added.

Astoria laughed loudly as she made herself more comfortable beside him. They fell into an easy silence as Draco continued to drink. "Why have you been so upset lately?" she wondered, feeling the time was finally right to ask, and hoping she would finally get an answer.

Sighing, he stared at his empty glass. "I was having an affair," he admitted, unable to look her way. "It's over now. I just...I cared about her, and she ended it so suddenly."

"Did you love her?" Astoria asked.

Shaking his head, he poured another drink to share with his wife. "I don't think so," he replied. "It wasn't about love. I don't think I know what it was about, other than the fact that I felt good when I was with her. But it's over, and I guess I should move on."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, resting a comforting hand on his arm.

"Are you mad?" he asked.

Astoria sipped the firewhiskey before handing it back to him. "No," she said. "I know you don't love me, just like you know I don't love you. Maybe if we could actually tolerate one another, I would be hurt."

"I'm sorry," he told her. She shrugged and reclaimed the glass, finishing it in one sip. "So, what do we do now?"

The glass refilled itself, but Astoria was no longer interested in the drink. "Do you intend to go after her?" she asked. "Whoever she is." Draco denied any intentions of finding Hermione. "Well, I guess things go back to the way they were before. You have your life, I have mine, and we continue on the way we have since our parents forced us to get married."

Draco sighed as he set aside the glass. "Do you think we could try to make us work?" he wondered. "I know we don't love each other, but we are married. Is it crazy to think we could at least be friends?"

Astoria thought back on their year long marriage, and released that tonight was the first time they ever had a real conversation. Granted, her husband was drunk and confessed to a months' long affair, but she didn't hate his company. "I think we could be," she decided. "How do we do that?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "No idea," he replied. "We'll figure it out, I guess."

000000000

Ron Weasley had been holed up at 12 Grimmauld Place since his fiancee had left him. An unplottable house meant the reporters, curious to know Hermione's whereabouts, would be unable to find him. Her letter offered no answers to the multitude of questions rolling around in his brain. She merely said that she was sorry, but couldn't marry him. No one had any answers.

Harry entered the guest room and took a seat on the floor beside his best friend. "Still no word?" he asked.

Ron sighed heavily as he shook his head. "I hate her for leaving, but I'm worried about her," he confessed, rubbing tired eyes. "I need to know that she's alright."

"I'll find her," Harry promised. "And you'll get the answers you deserve."


	9. Chapter 9

Just killing time before a meeting. Yes, I know I should be working, but you can't make me!

* * *

Chapter 9

Harry had thought it a long shot that if Hermione fled to the muggle world, she would go to her parents' home. She infrequently returned, but kept the house in good condition. Her parents had been killed in that house, just hours after their memories had been wiped clean of her. It came as a surprise that the house showed signs of life.

The front door opened as he approached the small, two-story home. Hermione stood in the threshold, gaping at the friend she never expected to see again. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice quaking with nerves.

"I could ask you the same," he retorted. "Going to invite me in?"

"I'm on my way out," she replied. "I have a doctor's appointment. Could we talk later?"

Harry shook his head and began to follow her as she made her way to her father's car. "I'll go with you," he decided, opening the passenger-side door. "Provide a little moral support."

Hermione sat behind the wheel, but the ignition key remained in her hand. "Harry, please," she murmured.

"No, you don't get to 'Harry, please' me," he stated. "I want to know what happened. Why would you end things with Ron a week before the wedding? Why would you run away? You're not that girl, Hermione. You don't run away like a coward. Whatever's going on, you know you have people who love you enough to help. So, talk to me."

"I'm pregnant," she said angrily. "I'm pregnant, and it's not Ron's baby. That's why I left. I cheated on him, Harry. For months, I've been shagging someone else, and now I'm pregnant. So, go tell Ron, and the two of you and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys can sit around discussing what a whore I am."

Silence filled the small space as Harry processed this new information. "Who?" he asked. Hermione shook her head as she put the key in the ignition. "Hermione, whose baby is it?"

"It's really none of your business," she muttered. "I've made my peace with losing the only family I had left, and that goes for you too. Please don't make me give you more of a reason to hate me."

Reaching for the key, he turned off the car. "I don't hate you," he assured her. "I'm worried about you. Does the father know?"

Tears began to fall as she shook her head. Placing the keys on his seat, Harry leaned in to hold her. "He can't know," she sobbed. "And I can do this alone. I _will_ do this alone, Harry. I just...please don't tell anyone. Please, Harry, I don't want this to get out."

He said nothing until she began to calm down. "What about Ron?" he asked when she pulled away. "Do you think he deserves to know why he's not married right now?"

Resting her head against the seatback, she acknowledged that he was right. "I can't face him though," she confessed. "Would you give him a letter?"

Harry nodded and handed her the keys. "Let's go make sure that baby's okay," he suggested. Two hours later, Harry returned home. Ron and Ginny were seated on the living room sofa, deep in a hushed conversation. "This is for you."

Ron looked up. "What's it say?" he asked. "Did you find her? Is she okay?"

He put the letter in his friend's hand. "Just read it," he requested before asking Ginny to join him in the kitchen. Despite incessant questions from his wife, Harry merely shook his head and made tea. "It's Ron's news now."

Ten minutes passed before Ron entered the kitchen without a word, balled up Hermione's letter, and set it on fire. Despite a reddening complexion, Ron gave no other indication of his feelings. "What's for dinner?" he asked.

"What's for dinner?" his sister repeated. "What was in that letter? Someone needs to tell me what's going on."

Ron bit the inside of his cheek as he took a moment to consider his words. "My ex cheated on me, got pregnant, and dumped me," he said as succinctly as possible. "What else would you like to know? Don't bother asking who the father is. She was pretty mum on that in the letter. Wouldn't tell me where she is either. Apparently, she's found a new flat though, so that's nice. I'm assuming I shouldn't expect an invitation to the housewarming party."

"I can't believe she would do that," Ginny muttered, taken aback by the news. "That doesn't sound like Hermione. What if she was under a spell or something? Has anyone considered that?"

Harry was quick to dismiss that idea. "That wasn't the case," he said. "I know it's hard to accept that Hermione would do something like this, but she did."

"Then it's better that she's gone," Ron interjected before walking away.

Ginny frowned, feeling her brother's pain. "I can't believe she would do this," she murmured. "And to Ron. I thought she loved him. They seemed so right together."

Harry fixed two cups of tea and sat down at the kitchen table. "I don't know what to tell you," he admitted without betraying the trust Hermione had put in him. "I don't think they were right for each other. All they did was fight. That's all they've ever done. Maybe it's better that they broke up."

"So, you're defending her actions?" Ginny asked incredulously. "After what she's done to my brother, you're really going to take her side?"

"I'm not taking sides," Harry insisted. "What she did was wrong. She knows it, I know it. No one is denying it. I'm not going to abandon her over one mistake. She has no one else."

Ginny seemed less than bothered by that. "After what she's done, she deserves to be alone," she muttered. "After all this family has done for her, it's a slap in the face that she would betray us this way."

Harry snorted. While he had been accepted with open arms, Molly had often kept Hermione at arms' length. That the young witch wanted an education and career more than marriage and babies baffled the older woman, and she was often quick to let that be known. If Ron mentioned an argument, his mother was quick to take her son's side, even if he had been in the wrong. The two strong-willed women frequently butted heads, and Harry considered Hermione lucky to no longer have to deal with the large family.

"Ron has every right to be angry and feel betrayed," he stated, standing. "The rest of us don't. Frankly, she hasn't ruined her relationship with me, and it'll take something much bigger than this to do that. I'm not abandoning her, not when she needs someone to be by her side."

With raised eyebrows, Ginny exited the kitchen, leaving Harry to wonder where he and his wife stood.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm no meteorologist, but I think summer is over. It's cold today...at 79 degrees. Maybe summer is just over for me.

* * *

Chapter 10

"Still sleeping on the couch?" Hermione asked as Harry helped her move into her new flat in Oxford. The first trimester had just drawn to a close, and with it went the morning sickness she was glad to be rid of. After positioning the sofa just so, the pair sat to take a much needed break.

Harry shrugged, but admitted that he was. "She'll get over it eventually," he muttered. "And don't blame yourself for this. I was your friend before I was Ginny Weasley's husband. You've never given me a good enough reason to walk away."

"I'm pregnant with another man's baby," she replied. "I betrayed my fiance and your best friend. That's not enough of a reason?"

Shaking his head, he removed his glasses. "No, it's not," he decided. "Personally, I think only Ron has the right to be angry about this. Sure, the rest of the family is mad, but that's because no one holds a grudge like a Weasley. Lucky for you I'm not a Weasley though. I think you're doing the right thing. It wouldn't be fair to Ron to think that was his kid, or ask him to raise another man's child. And if anyone's capable of doing this, it's you. That kid is lucky to have you."

Hermione smiled for the first time in weeks as she leaned into his side. "Will you let my baby call you Uncle Harry?" she asked.

"I insist on being called Uncle Harry," he replied, returning her grin. "Have you given any more thought to telling the father? You shouldn't have to do this alone. I know you can, but you shouldn't have to."

Sighing, she sat up. "He's married, Harry," she confessed. "I've already ruined my own relationship, I can't do that to someone else. It's better that he doesn't know. Besides, I have plenty of money saved to support the baby. I can do this."

Harry nodded. "But you'll call me, right?" he asked. "If anything comes up, or you need help, or just need an adult to talk to once in awhile, you call me."

"I will," she promised before thanking him for all the help he had so far provided. "And thank you for not hating me."

A gentle laugh passed his lips. "Hate you? For the number of times you've saved my arse over the years, how could I hate you?" he wondered. "And don't bring up the broom incident. That's always your go-to argument for me overreacting and getting mad at you. We were kids, let it go."

In the most difficult of times, Harry had always been the one to cheer Hermione up. Whether it was battling Death Eaters, hunting for horcruxes, losing her parents, or facing single motherhood, Harry was her rock. It was a comfort to know that, despite her mistakes, she would not lose him.

"Do you think I've made a mess of things?" she wondered.

"Maybe a little," he conceded. "Nothing you can't fix if you want to, though. Now, get up. We have boxes to unpack."

00000000

For the first time, Draco and Astoria dined together in Diagon Alley. The couple had grown closer since his affair ended, and he was beginning to think of his wife as a friend. They settled in at a small cafe and scanned the menu. "Have you thought about children at all?" Astoria wondered, using the large, leather bound menu for cover.

Draco shrugged as he tried to decide between chicken and beef. "Not really," he replied. "I know we have to have one, but I haven't really thought about having one. I'm not sure I want one."

"I've never wanted them," she chimed in. "I'd make a terrible mother. I guess that's what au pairs are for though. It's not fair to be forced to bring a child into this marriage."

Draco nodded in agreement. "No kid should have to live that way," he said.

"I meant that it isn't fair to us," Astoria clarified. "Although, once we have a child, we could divorce. Pureblood law gives you full custody. Then we both get to go on with our lives however we want."

Placing the menu aside, he scowled as he eyed her. "And I get to raise a child alone," he added.

"Like I said - au pairs," she reminded him. "We both had au pairs, and we turned out fine. I doubt your parents would object, if that's what you're worried about."

Scoffing, he threw his napkin on the table and left. Outside the cafe, he breathed in the cool, evening air. He suddenly began to wonder how he could consider his wife a friend. That she was willing to allow anyone but herself to raise her child astounded the young man. Perhaps it would be better if they divorced, and he had full custody. At least the child would know a loving parent.

Potter passed by the cafe, pulling Draco from thoughts of parenthood. His concern had been for Hermione, and her months' long disappearance. No one had heard from her, but he wondered if Potter knew something. Draco called his name, and the raven-haired man turned to face his former foe.

"Malfoy," Harry said politely. "Nice night for loitering, I suppose."

"The wife is inside," he explained as Potter approached. "I, uh, just needed some air. If the papers are correct, I hear congratulations are in order."

Harry's cheeks reddened as he nodded. "Ginny's only a couple of weeks along, and her mother is mad that she found out from the _Prophet_ instead of us," he replied. "It's amazing the things they print, or how they find them out."

"And yet they can't seem to track down Granger," Draco commented, hoping for some - any - insight on her whereabouts.

"How do you think we managed to evade Death Eaters so long?" Harry quipped. "I don't know why, but she doesn't want to be found." He was silent for a moment before realizing that no one knew of the broken engagement. "Neither of them do. I'm sure you remember those days of newly wedded bliss."

If Draco caught the initial slip, he didn't let it show. "No, actually I don't," he replied. "I went to Italy for our honeymoon, and Astoria went...you know, I have no idea where she went. That's the difference when you're forced to marry someone you don't love though. Is there any chance the happy couple will be returning anytime soon?"

Harry merely shrugged. "You never know with those two," he said cryptically. "Anyhow, I should be getting home. This wasn't terrible. Maybe I'll see you around."

Draco nodded and returned to his table as Harry walked away. Instead of going home though, he returned to Hermione's flat. She smiled when she saw him, setting aside her book. "I didn't expect to see you again today," she remarked.

But Harry had a burning question, one that he desperately needed answered. "Hermione, is Malfoy the father?"


	11. Chapter 11

I found out today that the place where my cousin's wedding reception is being held has no bathrooms. That has to violate some kind of rules, right? Health codes or building codes or the Geneva Convention? There's going to be a lot of people peeing in the woods, I'd imagine.

* * *

Chapter 11

Her confession changed nothing. Harry continued to help when he could, and managed to keep her secret despite the constant barrage of questions. From time to time, he ran into Malfoy, and gave her appropriate updates when he could. "It's almost funny how coy he thinks he is," Harry said as he set out lunch for two. "He always asks about you. He doesn't know what I know about your relationship, which makes it a bit stranger that he always asks."

"Does he still think I got married?" she wondered.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. The new story people are going with is the quickie divorce, but it hasn't made its way into the papers. Malfoy hasn't given any indication that he knows one way or the other," he responded. "Ron's finally left my house, which is nice. Unfortunately for George, he's now living there. He's not talking to reporters or answering any questions about you. So, it's all just speculation. Although, I do find it odd that Rita Skeeter is writing none of these columns. Reckon she's still afraid of you trapping her in a jar again?"

Despite a mouthful of food, Hermione laughed. "One of my prouder achievements," she joked before adopting a more somber attitude. "How, um, how is Ron? Does he know that you've been coming to see me?"

"He doesn't know," Harry replied. "Ginny knows, but she's not saying anything to the family. You're, uh, not exactly the favorite topic of conversation around there. Well, not in a good way, anyhow. Sorry, that sounds awful. Anyway, Ron's fine. He's Ron. He's angry, but he'll eventually get over what's happened."

"I don't expect anyone's forgiveness," she murmured. "I don't deserve it. I just want him to be happy."

Harry held her hand, letting her know that he understood. If the Weasleys ever found it in their hearts to forgive her, it would be years before they did it. Finding out Malfoy had any involvement would signal the definitive end of their relationship with her. There would be no forgiving a Malfoy. "What about Malfoy?" he wondered. "Do you think he'd forgive you for this?"

Sighing, Hermione no longer had an appetite. "I don't know, Harry," she muttered. "If you and Ginny weren't together, and she never told you you were going to be a father, would you be alright with that?"

He considered her question for a moment, but found he couldn't give her a yes or no answer. "Malfoy and I grew up very differently," he explained. "He had parents who praised him, gave into his every desire. Sure, they made him a spoiled git, but they also cared about him. I had the Dursleys. Growing up that way, all I've ever wanted is a family. So, it's not fair to make that kind of comparison."

"Is that the kind way of saying you wouldn't forgive her?" Hermione wondered.

Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't be able to, but Malfoy's different," he replied. "Maybe Malfoy doesn't want kids. He's married to someone else. We don't know if she would be so accepting of your baby. Hell, Malfoy might not want the baby. It'll be a halfblood, and we know how his family feels about that. I don't know, maybe it is better that he doesn't know. It just doesn't seem like you to keep the choice of knowing from him."

A mirthless laugh passed her lips. "A lot of what I've done recently doesn't seem like me," she pointed out. "I honestly thought I could break it off with Draco before the wedding, and then I'd marry Ron and we'd have a happy life together. I should have been smarter than this. I should have realized there would be consequences, and that I would lose people. And instead, all I thought about was sleeping with Draco."

Harry gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he let it go. "Does it make you feel even a little better if I say I think you're going to be a great mum?" he asked. "Because I mean it when I say that kid is lucky to have you. It doesn't matter what led you to be in this situation, just think about that baby. It'll love you just as unconditionally as you'll love it. And it'll have a cool Uncle Harry to talk to when Mummy drives it insane."

There were unexpected tears in her eyes as Hermione hugged her best friend. She wasn't alone, and her baby would have more than a crazy mother for company. But Hermione also knew that couldn't last. Harry and Ginny would have their own newborn around the same time her baby would be born. He would have the family he wanted, and his own child would come first. It was a nice thought, though.

"You should probably get home," Hermione said when she pulled away. "Ginny doesn't like you coming here."

Nodding, he pulled on his shoes. "I'll see you soon," he promised as she walked him to the door. "You have a doctor's appointment next week, right?"

There were few times that Hermione was excited about her pregnancy, but this upcoming visit to the doctor was one of them. "I get to find out what I'm having," she told him.

"I'll be there," he replied, kissing her cheek.

She watched him disappear as he descended the stairs, and shut the door. Reaching beneath the sofa cushions, Hermione removed the journal she had safely stashed there. The pages held her most intimate thoughts during her pregnancy. She detailed her favorite experiences, and hadn't been afraid to hold back on the less desirable aspects of the ordeal. Draco, though, was never mentioned. He no longer had a place in her life, and though their child would be a constant reminder of him, it was easier to pretend he did not exist.

Instead of filling in a new entry, she turned to the back of the book and a mostly empty page. The words _Dear Draco_ were written across the top, but the rest was blank, white space and blue lines. She had attempted to start the letter several times, but got no further than the greeting. There was so much to say, but it was hard to put into words. Apologies and explanations were owed, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to make them.

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, she tore the page from the book and threw it away. "I'm a bloody coward," she muttered, placing the journal back beneath the cushion.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I think it's time we had a house of our own," Draco decided as he ate breakfast with his mother.

Narcissa Malfoy's pale eyebrows rose. "Do you mean you and me?" she joked. "Whatever will people think?"

"They'll think my mother is crazy, and needs her son to take care of her," he retorted. "I meant Astoria and myself. Maybe living like this isn't prudent. If we lived somewhere smaller, we'd be forced to spend more time together. Maybe then you'd get that grandchild you've been begging for. I don't know, you might not either. We could kill each other before getting that far."

Narcissa frowned. "I thought you two were getting along," she commented. Though she hated seeing her only child unhappy, arranged marriages were the way things were done. Some couples were lucky. They knew of the arrangement long before they came of age, and most formed friendships with their betrothed. Narcissa had harbored feelings for Lucius long before their wedding, and was fortunate that he reciprocated them. But for every happy outcome, there was a Draco and Astoria.

"Sometimes we do," he admitted. "It's when we discuss children and the future that I remember why I dislike her. I know it isn't strange to have other people raise your child, but is it so strange that I want to be a part of it?"

Narcissa smiled as she covered her son's hand. "You wanted so badly to be like your father when you were little," she recalled. "It scared me because, even though I knew he loved you, he didn't know how to express it. Hearing you say this gives me a little hope that you'll be different. Don't be like your father, sweetheart. Let your children know how much you love them. If you want to raise them yourself, then I know that's what you'll do. Astoria doesn't have to like it, and she can allow other people to handle her maternal responsibilities. You handle your own."

Draco smiled and nodded, glad to have his mother's support. "You know this doesn't mean we're having a baby any time soon," he reminded her. "Honestly, I don't know how I feel about bringing a child into such a loveless marriage. It doesn't seem fair."

"I know, but we both know it's your duty," Narcissa replied, albeit unenthusiastically. "If you want out of this marriage, it means producing an heir. Your father saw to that."

Draco scowled. "Didn't you just tell me he loved me?" he asked. "What kind of parent forces their only child to do something like this?"

"The kind who upholds tradition," was her proper reply. "And when your children are of age, they'll have the same arrangements made for them. This is what we do, Draco."

With a roll of his eyes, he left the dining room to prepare for the day. Dressed, he took to wandering Diagon Alley. Thoughts of Hermione returned as he passed the Leaky Cauldron for the first time in months. It had been their place, but now it was just a place. The pub brought back wonderful memories of the months they had spent together. He focused on that instead of the heartbreak of her walking away.

"Malfoy!"

He turned slowly, too lost in his own thoughts for swifter movement. He spotted Harry and responded with a halfhearted smile. "Bit early to be slacking off, isn't it?" Draco wondered.

"Had to take the morning off," Harry announced, "because I'm having a boy! Doesn't that sound great? I don't think I've ever been this excited about anything. And don't tell the wife, but yes, this is more exciting than our wedding day."

Draco chuckled as he looked around for Mrs. Potter. When she was nowhere to be found, he laughed harder. "Congratulations," he said when the mirth abated. "I, uh, I'm glad one of us is happy."

Harry tried to frown, but Draco could tell he was too happy to fully commit to any other emotion. "What's bothering you?" he wondered.

Sighing, Draco shook his head, letting him know he didn't want to discuss his problems. He worried that asking about Hermione too much might cause suspicion. Besides, he decided he wanted nothing to do with the witch. She had chosen to walk away, picking Weasley over him. Though there were still no reports about the wedding, honeymoon, or their blissful life together, Draco refused to allow himself to believe that she might come back to him.

"So, she's doing well?" Draco asked as the pair began to walk. "I can't imagine living with a pregnant woman. Are the crazy cravings true?"

Harry laughed. "Last month, everything she ate was sweet. This month it's pickled," he recounted. "There was also a curry month. We slept in separate rooms. Nothing beats Her...her cake for breakfast phase. I think I gained ten pounds."

"Cake for breakfast doesn't sound so bad," Draco mused. "Astoria and I are supposed to procreate eventually. That sounds like pretty good incentive to actually do it."

Harry laughed as he nodded in agreement, though he was glad that Draco had not noticed his near slip of the tongue. "Is a kid something you want?" he wondered.

Draco shrugged as they entered the Quidditch shop. "Gets me out of my marriage," he muttered. "I would get full custody, thanks to those archaic pureblood laws. This could be my chance to do something good. I could raise a kid who'll be good and kind. This could be my only chance to do that."

"You'll get to," Harry replied confidently. "Listen, I should get home. It was good talking to you again." Draco nodded and watched Harry leave the shop. Once outside, he Apparated to Hermione's flat. She looked up, surprised, but not startled by his sudden appearance. "You have to tell Malfoy."

"Tell him what?" she wondered, setting aside her book.

Harry scowled. "Don't play stupid, Hermione. You're not good at it," he chastised. "About the baby. He wants this. He wants to be a father, and this is his chance."

With a heavy sigh, she shook her head. "I can't, Harry," she replied. "Besides, he's married. His wife should be the one giving him a child."

"But-"

"There's no but, Harry," she interrupted. "Draco's married. I was just a fling, and I will deal with the consequences on my own. He can't leave her to help me, not until he's divorced. And I won't ask him to leave her for me. It's bad enough he's forced to be with her. Is it really fair to force him to be with me?"

Harry sat down beside her and held her hand. "Maybe it won't be that way," he reasoned.

She reached for her book and handed it to him. "This is a book on pureblood law," she explained, opening to the chapter she had been reading. "And this is the chapter on child custody. If he wanted, he could take my baby. He wouldn't have to allow me the right to see her. If he finds out that I'm pregnant, I might never see my daughter."

Without looking at the book, Harry set it aside. "And by not telling him, you're making sure that he won't know her either."

"That's a chance I have to take," she said sadly.


	13. Chapter 13

I started working on something new yesterday, and I have no idea where I'm going with it. I figure I'll post the first chapter tomorrow though!

* * *

Chapter 13

Ginny Potter approached the muggle apartment building after coaxing the address out of her husband. It was her first solo trip to the muggle world, and the strange, new place scared her. Scanning the list of last names posted beside the door, Ginny found Granger and pushed the button. A full minute passed before she heard a voice. "Hey, Mione. It's Ginny," she said. There was no sound on the other side, and seconds passed before Ginny heard the front door click open. She entered and took the stairs to the second floor.

Hermione waited at the top, a nervous look in her brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Ginny motioned toward the row of doors, silently asking if they could go inside. She was led into a modest flat with a small kitchen, but spacious living room. Easing herself down on the sofa, she silently watched Hermione as she seated herself as far from the young witch as possible. "Harry told me what happened," she finally said. Dark brows rose, but Hermione said nothing. "There were some details he said he didn't know, but I know about the affair."

The older witch nodded. "And you've come to tell me that I'm a horrible person, and I should stay away from your family," Hermione guessed. "I know you're not happy that Harry and I are still friends. He's made it quite clear that you disapprove."

"And how should I feel?" the redhead demanded. "You betrayed my brother. He spent weeks moping around my house while you ran away. We had to deal with the aftermath while you hid out here."

Hermione stared incredulously at her former friend. "You think I'm not dealing with it?" she replied, touching her rounded stomach. "Is this not enough aftermath to deal with? I thought leaving was the right thing to do, rather than ask your brother to raise another man's child."

"It was cowardly," Ginny retorted. "Sleeping with other men behind Ron's back was cowardly."

Hermione sighed as she looked away. She didn't need another reminder of the wrong choices she had made, especially when that reminder took the form of Ginny Weasley. "Did you really come here just for this?" she wondered.

"No," Ginny admitted. "I had hoped that we could make amends, but I'm not entirely sure that's possible. Harry keeps telling me it's not my place to be angry with you, but Ron's my big brother. How do I not feel hurt for him?"

There was nothing Hermione could say to contradict her. The Weasleys had earned the right to be mad at her, and there was nothing Hermione could do to change that. "I really am sorry that I hurt him," she murmured. "I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry."

Ginny nodded, seemingly accepting the apology. She waited silently as Hermione finished crying and composed herself once more. "What's it like?" she asked, gingerly rubbing her own growing belly. "I can't imagine being alone right now. What do you do when you crave ice cream at two in the morning?"

Hermione laughed softly and stood, beckoning Ginny to follow her to the kitchen. "I stock up," she replied, opening the freezer to reveal that it was stocked with various pints of ice cream. "It's, um, it hasn't been so bad. Harry's a big help. Pregnancy is a piece of cake, at least so far. Having to raise her on my own scares me a bit though."

"They'll be classmates," Ginny realized. "James and...did you pick a name?"

Frowning, Hermione shook her head as she removed a pint of rocky road ice cream from the freezer. "Nothing seems right," she confessed. "I've got a couple months though to make up my mind."

The pair stood at the counter, armed with spoons, as they consumed the frozen treat. "Harry's already got claims on Lily," Ginny said. "I've tried to convince him that I'm one and done, but he and my mother have other ideas. I honestly don't know how Mum did this six times."

Hermione chuckled. "Maybe there is some upside to going it alone," she decided. She grew quiet, poking at the ice cream in front of them. "I miss him," she confessed, unable to face Ginny.

"I assume you mean the father," the redhead said, somehow maintaining her composure.

Turning, Hermione placed her spoon in the sink. "Yeah," she mumbled. "I know I shouldn't. It was me who ended it. Getting involved with him was foolish, I know, but now I can't help it. I miss him."

"And Ron," Ginny wondered. "Do you miss Ron?"

If she were honest with herself, Hermione would say no. She couldn't tell Ginny that, though. "Of course I do," she replied. "I hate myself for hurting Ron. The worst part is I don't even know why I did it. I didn't love him. We were friends who had a few drinks one night, and then it was like I couldn't get enough of him. It became addictive. _He_ was addictive."

"Then why end it?" Ginny asked.

Her back remained to her friend. "I had to," she replied, leaving out all further details. "I just...I had to."

Behind her, Ginny nodded. Harry had given his wife only the basest details of Hermione's affair, but she knew little about the father. He had, however, let it slip that the father of her child was married. It angered her to know that Hermione had potentially ruined two relationships with her selfish deed.

"So, have you seen him since you found out?" she inquired.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione turned around. "No, and I have no intention of ever seeing him again," she said definitively. "Why do you think I left to come here?"

"You know Ron would take you back," Ginny replied. "He's hurt, but he loves you. You two can get married like you planned, and your little girl will have a father. She needs one, and Ron would make a great father. Is that something you'd consider?"

Hermione was skeptical. There was no way Ron would take her back, not after what she had done to him. Deep down, she knew she didn't want to go back. Her little girl was a blessing in disguise. They were a volatile couple, and getting pregnant had been her ticket out of a potentially miserable life.

"I've made up my mind, Gin, and I'm not going back," Hermione stated.

Nodding, Ginny promised to be in touch soon and returned home. Harry was seated on the floor of the nursery with a set of instructions laid out before him. "Where've you been?" he asked curiously, glad for any distraction he could get from crib building.

"Hermione's," she muttered. "I don't understand what's going on with her, but I don't want you going over there anymore."

His good mood dissipated and a scowl settled on his lips. "Please don't keep me from my best friend," he said.


	14. Chapter 14

Happy Friday! Next week, I'll post the conclusion of the story.

* * *

Chapter 14

Hermione was a week overdue and growing increasingly uncomfortable when her water finally broke. It was late, but Harry had asked her to promise to call him when labor began. He had scaled back his visits at his wife's behest, but he would not miss the baby's birth. She had time to prepare herself as the contractions were still far enough apart. Hours passed before it was time to go to the hospital.

Picking up her mobile, she dialed Harry's phone. "It's time," she said. Harry quickly hung up, and seconds later, Apparated into her flat. "Do you mind driving?"

Harry grinned as he shook his head, his excitement radiating in his emerald-colored eyes. "Are you ready to go?" he asked. "And did you clean the kitchen?"

Hermione shrugged as he led her to the front door. "I had some time to kill," she replied nonchalantly.

Harry drove carefully, avoiding bumps and potholes after Hermione complained that they hurt. Every few minutes, she gasped in pain and clutched the door handle as the contractions came closer together. Arriving at the hospital, Hermione was helped from the car before Harry went in search of parking. When he entered the hospital, Hermione was already in a room.

"You seem calm," he commented, taking a seat beside the bed. Hermione, staring at her stomach, shrugged wordlessly. "Are you really okay? You know you don't have to put on a brave face for me."

"How mad is Ginny going to be?" she wondered, ignoring his concern for her.

Harry waved her off. "Don't worry about Ginny," he replied. "I told her she couldn't make me choose between the two of you. I know you're dead set about raising the baby alone, but you shouldn't be alone for this. Besides, I want to meet my niece. After everything we've been through together, I'm happy to be here with you."

Hermione reached for his hand and held it tightly. "Thank you," she murmured. She beared down on his hand as another contraction hit. When it passed, she breathed. "Am I already a bad mother if I say I can't wait for this kid to come out?"

Chuckling, Harry massaged his now sore hand. "I think it's fine. Just don't remind her every day of her life of the pain she's causing you now," he advised. Hermione chuckled as the Healer entered. "Reckon it's about time?"

The Healer nodded and positioned herself in front of Hermione. After a brief examination, she looked at the soon-to-be mother. "When I say, I need you to push with all your might," the old woman stated. "Now...push dear!"

Half an hour later, Hermione held her daughter for the first time. Harry, standing beside her, stared in awe at the new life. "She looks like you," he decided.

Hermione was exhausted, but had the energy to laugh. "Poor thing," she replied. "Has Draco's chin too."

"What's her name?" he wondered.

Despite having months to make up her mind, Hermione had found no name that she felt would suit her daughter. But as she looked at her newborn's face, with rosy cheeks and pouty red lips, it came to her. She was suddenly reminded of Draco's reintroduction into her life, and the daily roses that accompanied it. Her daughter would not carry the Malfoy name, but she would have a small part of her father.

"Rose," she said. "Her name is Rose."

00000000000

Astoria entered the master bedroom and sat down on her side of the bed. The bed was large enough that husband and wife never touched. The barrier of pillows that usually lay between them were gone though. Without a word, she readied herself for bed and slipped beneath the covers. With a heavy sigh, she stared at the ceiling as she felt the bed shift.

"You seem...uncomfortable," Draco deduced as he moved closer to his wife.

They had shared a bed for only a few months, and he never spoke to her while he was in it. "What's going on with you?" she wondered.

Rolling onto his back, Draco shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "Something feels...different. I can't explain it. I just feel different."

Astoria turned to face him, her interest piqued. "A good different or bad different?" she wondered.

He considered his feelings for a moment. It seemed as if a flip had been switched inside of him. He was simultaneously lighter, more loving, but fearful of the future. He couldn't pinpoint when the change had occurred or why, but he knew he felt one. If only he could put it into words.

"Good," he said. "I think. I'm happy, so it must be good." Astoria giggled, causing him to smile. "Oh, so my happiness is funny, is it? Here I thought you cared about me, but I guess I'm just supposed to amuse you."

They moved minutely closer together. "You do amuse me," she said without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Ever since that affair, you've been different. Kind. I like it. I...I like you, Draco."

His hand rested tenderly, but hesitantly on her waist. Never before had they been so close, so intimate. Only one other person had ever seen this side of him before, and she had walked away, taking a piece of his heart with her. His focus now was on the woman beside him, the one who had stayed. Blue eyes stared expectantly, waiting for him to do something, anything. He felt his own eyes drift shut as he hesitantly kissed her for the first time.

"Was that...is it okay that I did that?" he asked, sounding like a scared first year.

Slowly, Astoria opened her eyes. "Do you intend to do it again?" she wondered. He looked at her hopefully, wanting to be assured that he had her permission to do so. In lieu of words, she pressed her lips to his. It lasted no longer than his kiss had, but it was the start of something new. "I like that too," she decided.

Draco held his wife close. "Why did it take us this long to get here?" he murmured. "We like each other now. Why couldn't we like each other a year ago?"

Her fingers lightly traced a path down his stubble-covered jaw. "We didn't choose this," she pointed out. "I think we were both too busy fighting it that we made ourselves and each other miserable. At least it only took a year for us to get to this place. Imagine how much worse it could have been."

Draco nodded. He attributed his new feelings of happiness to his wife and the change that had come about between them. He didn't know that in a small muggle hospital in Oxford, his first child had been born. He didn't know that it was magic that caused them, magic that had been born with his daughter. It was the link created between father and child that had made him so overwhelmingly happy.

"I want to have a baby," he announced.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A year later, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born. Draco held his firstborn son, unable to keep a smile from his lips. "He's perfect," Draco declared, turning to his wife to present their son to her.

Tired, Astoria shook her head. "Not now," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

He frowned briefly, but if Astoria didn't want to hold their son, he would. Taking a seat, he held a bottle to the newborn's lips, coaxing him to drink. "That's a good boy," he murmured, kissing the fine blond hair atop the baby's head. "You wore your mummy out, but give her some time to rest up. We'll be fighting each other to hold you."

There was a knock on the door and Theodore Nott entered. "Congratulations, mate," he said softly. Moving closer, he peered down at the newest Malfoy. "He's, um, what do you call a boy? Cute? Handsome?"

Draco laughed. "I'll take either," he replied. "Glad you could come by. Astoria will be happy to see you. The delivery took a lot out of her."

Theo nodded and claimed the chair beside his friend. "It was her idea," he muttered. Tall and lanky, Theo Nott had never quite grown into his body. His brown hair had always been worn shaggy, and often concealed his dark eyes. He had never been much of a talker, but his words could cut to the bone. "I'm guessing she didn't tell you."

Frowning, Draco shook his head. "Why would she?" he wondered.

Just as quickly as he sat, Theo rose. "Just...talk to your wife," he advised, moving towards the door. "And congratulations again on the baby."

Confused, Draco merely nodded as Theodore disappeared. "What the bloody hell was that all about?" he wondered before quickly apologizing to his hour-old son. Placing the baby in the cradle, he shook his wife awake. "You missed Nott," he informed her when her eyes opened. "We had an interesting conversation."

Astoria sat up and averted her gaze. "What did he have to say?" she wondered. Draco shot her a pointed look, one that said she already knew. "We, um, we've been talking for awhile. You and I both knew that once the baby was born, our marriage would be over."

"So, you're leaving me for Theodore Nott?" he demanded.

She looked up, her blue eyes determined. "Yes, Draco, I am," she replied calmly.

"And Scorpius?" he wondered. "You're really going to walk away from your son? How can you do that?"

Her bravery gone, she looked down at her hands. "We both know I didn't want to be a mother," she mumbled. "I should feel something for him, shouldn't I?"

Scoffing, Draco shook his head. "You should, but it doesn't surprise me that you don't," he replied. "How long has this been going on with Nott? Am I crazy for thinking we were doing well?"

Their relationship had begun just a month before Astoria announced her pregnancy. But knowing the baby was her way out of an unwanted marriage, she made plans to begin her life anew after giving birth. She and Theo had maintained their friendship since childhood, and she had always known of his feelings for her. They saw each other in secret, and she knew he intended to propose when she was finally free.

"We _were_ doing well," she agreed, "but we'll never love each other. Admit it, Draco, Scorpius can't hold us together. You want someone else, I want someone else. Let's just end this now."

"Not without a fight," he vowed. Draco knew what she would receive should they dissolve their union, and not another sickle of the Malfoy fortune would make its way into Astoria Greengrass's hands. After calling a Healer to see his son back to the nursery, Draco left St. Mungo's. Returning to Malfoy Manor, he found his mother in the library. "She's seeing someone else," he announced. "Astoria wants a divorce."

000000000

Rose Granger crawled, said her first word, and took her first steps within a few short months of turning one. Almost a year old, the only child of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy toddled around the flat she shared with her mother. She was a happy baby, the apple of her mother's eye, and Hermione loved that Rose was her company on a daily basis. Her world revolved around the little girl who resembled her mother, and Hermione would have it no other way.

Harry's visits had grown infrequent after the birth of his son James, and with the announcement of their second child meant she would see him even less. But today, he would visit. It was only a matter of time. Rose giggled when the fireplace roared to life and green flames flickered. When Harry stepped into their living room, the little girl smiled and extended her arms. "Tappy!" she greeted him as Harry picked her up.

"Why is that the only word she knows?" he bemoaned. "It doesn't even sound like Harry."

"She's saying 'Mama' now," Hermione informed him proudly. "It is the single greatest sound I've ever heard in my life. Has James said anything yet?"

Harry chuckled as he sat down and bounced Rose on his knee while she giggled. "No, I tried to get him to say daddy, but he just stares blankly at me," he replied. "I think my kid is too good for me."

Taking a seat beside him, Hermione laughed. "Yeah, but he loves you," she murmured. "How's Ginny feeling?"

Mrs. Potter rarely came up between the pair. When Ginny had instructed her husband to not see Hermione anymore, Harry defied her. Tension had been rife between the pair until James's birth, and Ginny threw herself into motherhood. She no longer cared if Harry saw his friend, but she would never ask about Hermione, her daughter, or their visits. When Harry suggested bringing James along for playdates, Ginny was adamant that her child would go nowhere near the Granger house.

"Fine," he said. "Due next month. She's getting big. James has one of those large, bouncing balls, and he thinks it's the same thing as her stomach. Ginny, needless to say, isn't amused."

Hermione vacated the couch, but briefly returned with a gift bag in hand. "I wanted to give you this," she said. "You can tell Ginny it's from a random admirer, if you want. Anyhow, I thought James might root for his father's Quidditch team, and with his birthday coming up..."

Harry opened the bag to reveal a child's size Chudley Cannons sweater with James Potter printed on the back. Grinning, he hugged her, thankful for the generous gift. "Are you sure you can afford this?" he wondered.

Smiling, Hermione assured him that they were financially sound. "I figure it'll be another two, three years before I need to work," she shared, taking Rose from his arms. "Besides, all I can focus on is my Rosie. I'd be useless anywhere else."

"Um, Mione, there's something you should know," Harry began nervously. She eyed him curiously, with furrowed brows. He rarely sounded somber, reserving it for only the most serious matters. "There have been reports in the _Prophet_. Malfoy's gone missing." Hermione gasped, worried for her former lover's safety. Harry held up a hand to calm her. "I can't tell you much, as I promised I wouldn't, but he's okay. He's just...gone."


	16. Epilogue

Here's the end! Thanks for reading! Keep in mind, this is the prequel to _More Than a Feeling_, sofeel free to reread that story...and maybe don't point out things that may have changed between this story and that one.

* * *

Epilogue

"Mummy, let's go!" Rose called from the front door. "We're gonna be late for school."

Her money lasted until Rose turned four. Before it ran out completely, she returned to the wizarding world, securing a position in a newly established primary school in Diagon Alley. It was the only time they spent in the wizarding world, and Hermione did her best to keep a low profile. No one reported her return, and for that, she was grateful.

Hurriedly, Hermione pulled on her shoes, grabbed her bags, and took her daughter's hand. "Let's go!" she announced, stepping in the floo. It was only when she took the job that she connected her fireplace to the floo network, allowing her to enter the wizarding world without taking a stroll through Diagon Alley.

They arrived early, an hour before the school officially opened. Waiting in her classroom was the year's roster of students. "Looks like you're in my class," Hermione commented as Rose tried out each seat to ensure she got the best.

"Where else would I be?" the five year old wondered. "Is Daisy in our classroom?"

Hermione shook her head. The daughter of Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson had healed an old rift between the mothers. They found themselves confiding in one another; Hermione as a single mother and Pansy as the mother of a rambunctious, spoiled little girl. "She's too old for my class," Hermione replied. Rose bemoaned the loss of her best friend, but her mother heard little of her complaints. One name on her roster stood out above all others.

Scorpius Malfoy.

Harry and Draco had lost contact years earlier, but never was there mention of Draco having a son. He would be one of the younger children in her class, which meant he had been born when the pair still spoke. Why Harry never mentioned it, she didn't know. Perhaps it was just none of her business. She had made it clear that she wanted to keep Draco out of her life, and Harry abided.

As the clock struck eight, Rose went outside to be with her friends. Within minutes, her class was inside, awaiting the start of their first day orientation. With time to kill, she went outside for some fresh air.

"Granger?" a voice called to her.

Who she saw stopped her in her tracks. Draco Malfoy smiled when their eyes met for the first time in years. Her heart pounded wildly as she approached him.

The End


End file.
